The Nameless Redemption
by Lycanthropic Nerev
Summary: The Paladin Story I wrote a while back was the preview now you get it all from beginning to end! Rated T for all Oblivion's Reasons.


_**Disclaimer:** The Elder Scrolls is not mine. The idea of a Paladin being redeemed from a Dark Knight was in part inspired by Final Fantasy IV. Lots of fours._

_**Author's Note:** This is one of my in-game characters for Oblivion. I put out a preview a while back, and the people who reviewed loved it, so I'm going to put the real story here for you! Spoiler Warning should go without saying. There are a few changes from the priview, but that's just to make the story be able to fit with the game, which I didn't have when I wrote the preview. One more thing. Those who read the preview know why I used so many pronouns. Those who don't, no one knows his name. Not even him._

The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion

The Nameless Redemption

Prologue 

The man had no name. He never needed one, all he did was kill anyway. Why talk to the victims?

His black, twisted blade swung through the air, leaving death in its arc. Another four of the soldiers dead. A quick shot of dark fire stole the life of another group. He felt their life seep into him, and he became even stronger. He focused waves af dark energy into swirling whisps around himself, and fired them outward, destroying all the buildings that were on the town square. A second wave took care of the others. The black night sky was illuminated by the flames. Since all the buildings were either collapsed or fully on fire, the Dark Knight decided to leave his handiwork for dawn, killing the survivors as he went. As he left the border of the backwards little town to collect his payment, a boy ran outside of the burning wreckage and hit him on the back of the head with a makeshift club.

The Dark Knight didn't flinch. He turned slowly and menacingly around and regarded the little fly. He raised his left hand and his sword darkly glowed in his right. Energy began to pulse and cackle about him. His cold, unfeeling eyes stared out at the victim as the ball reduced in size and increased in magnitude, nearly invisible but for the tiny, dark vapors around the edges. He loosed it at the small human, and the static around him followed it. It made contact. Any building that still stood fell, and all the ruins of collapsed buildings were vaporised. Nothing was left of the human boy after the cataclysmic blast.

The Dark Knight left behind what little remained of the obscure villiage. He didn't know why his client had wanted it destroyed, but he offered millions in gold. He didn't care about the lives of pathetic humans anyway. He no longer remembered why.

As he thought this, his sword quivered. It twitched and glowed a dark red, brighter than the usual. Then, it went dead. Those few seconds before the disturbance was undone and the Deathblade revived by the dark force that made it were enough for many memories, much to the sword's dismay, to come flooding back to the Dark Knight. He dropped to his knees, and ripped off his helm, and tears dammed by the evil blade for years broke through. He was fairly pale, with straight, thin features and slightly pointed ears. He was a Half-Elf, seventy years old but appearing twenty because of his elven blood. His mother an Imperial and his father…

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His father was an Ayleid who had been abandoned by his society. He had stumbled horribly beaten into Leyawiin after being exiled, and his mother had taken him in. They had fallen in love and had the Dark Knight, then an innocent, pleasant boy. They soon had to flee the city, as a band of horrible racist humans had discovered their union. They ran with the humans hot on their trails for sixteen years, all the while he learned to use blades, heavy and light armor, and many forms of offense magic. He had also studied a smattering of Restoration.

For years his family ran from place to place. When he was sixteen, he and his father buried his mother, who had fallen in an ambush. At nineteen, he and his father were taking up camp in the Colovian Highlands. Their elven senses alerted them to multiple armored footsteps. He readied his sword, and his father prepared his enchanted ax. Into the fray they flew, himself twirling his sword and killing many he went, his first kills. His father cleaved heads like melons. On and on the battle raged, father and son loosing spells upon the human murderers. By dawn they all were dead.

His father had taken a small wound with an iron sword, which without his mother's healing skill became infected. He watched in horror for months as his father succumbed slowly and painfully to Peryite's death. After burning the body, he went to the Imperial City, using his combat and magic skills for his mercenary job.

One day, when returning from a routine job, he walked through the streets to his small home. He saw a band of human thugs accosting an elf woman. He watched as one of them mercilessly slit her throat. He drew his steel longsword and charged, killing ten before she had even fell, but the other twelve managed to flee as he turned his attention to the woman. Using what little Restoration he knew, he managed to keep her alive long enough for him to get her to a Healer.

Afterwards, he kept seeing the elf woman, who'se name was Falia, and they began a loving relationship. It was not to last. Almost a year after they had met, they were ripped bloodily apart. The thugs who had gotten away returned with many more, and before either could react, Falia was pierced with arrows. He killed them all with bitter vengeance in his heart, they all were slain before the guards even knew anything had happened. All who had bows he did not kill quickly, though. He gave them slow deaths of thunder, frost and flame. And the leader suffered agonizing pain delivered by dark, unspeakable means for as long as he could bring himself to inflict.

What happened next he hated himself for. He ran over to Falia, but he could do nothing. He felt he may have been able to save her again, had he just killed them all quickly. He mourned in his home, not leaving for months. In the course of his life, he had lost all that he had loved. His mother, his father and the love of his life were all dead, and he felt that he was to blame.

A few months later, he finally resurfaced. He had begun doing mercenary jobs again. In a cave he took shelter in, he killed a necromancer and took his sword. It was a powerful weapon, clearly enchanted, and covered with strange runes that he could not understand. The smell of blood lingered around it like a cloud, but he could not bring himself to give it to the local priest or Mages Guild for inspection.

In fact, he could not bring himself to part with it at all. He brought it everywhere. His associates noticed a marked change in his mannerisms since the sword was obtained. Where before he was a helpful person, always willing to lend a hand where needed, and pleasantly outgoing, he was now taciturn, blunt, and without compassion or mercy. All his jobs seemed to end fatally now.

After one such job, he entered the Imperial City Market District and a familiar scene played out. He saw an elf woman fall to the ground, and the human thugs leaving as though her murder was nothing. He readied the sword, and screamed at them, blinded by rage and the revalation that it was not him, but humans who had caused the deaths of all he held dear. He cut them down one by one, and the sword enveloped his mind in darkness.

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He knelt trembling with the sword before him, remembering much of his life. He needed to destroy the sword, and become himself again. He searched for an area where the sword would have minimal impact, and chose to venture high into the Dragontail Mountains and found a place that pulsated with magic of the Divines.

He took the sword in two hands, raised it above his head, and smashed down. The sword was shattered, and the dark and holy energies cancelled eachother out. The magic on the mountaintop was gone.

He had a friend in Skingrad who knew how to forge weapons. So the Dark Knight went to the chapel to learn how to infuse a sword with an enchantment of the Divines. After arduously learning the complex spell, he and his friend made a sword that could help him to redeem himself. After years of sword and service to the Divines, particularly Akatosh, regaining many memories in the process, and learning to forgive, as was his nature before the sword. He renounced his destructive, dark magicks and learned restoration and mysticism.

Years later, he climbed again to the mountaintop where the Dark Sword was destroyed and stuck the Light Blade into the bare rock, allowing the place to regain it's magic. He then became a Paladin, a holy battlemage, and gave himself to the Imperial Guard for his many crimes.

In prison he meditated often, giving thought to his crimes. He wanted one memory in particular: his name. He could not remember, and cursed himself for not telling anyone his true name. He finally regretted using Aliases all the time out of a foolish merc's paranoia. He decided that he could go by "Paladin" until he found it. In his meditations, he determined that the gods were testing him and his resolve. If he truly redeemed himself, they would return his name. This made sense, as more memories returned as he did more good works.

One day, a new inmate, a Dunmer, began to poke fun at his heritage.

"Oh, ho, HO! What's this? Look like an Imperial, and stinks like one too. But what's this? The ears, the scent of Magic… an _Ayleid_? An illegitimate rapechild maybe? Heh, stupid Half-Elf. Given the history the Empire has with Ayleids, I don't think you'll have much longer. Oh, that's right, you're going to die in here Ayleid Half-Elf scum! You're going to die!"

The Paladin mused to himself, grinning. This vulgar Dark Elf was very lucky that he had given up his dark nature. It had taken all of his resolve to not have a relapse at the "rapechild" part. His father was the most virtuous man he ever knew.

There was some commotion outside the prison, and in the upper halls. The vulgar elf began to speak again.

"Hey! You hear that? The guards are coming! For you! Hehehehehehehe…"

_That's the prologue. Next chapter is when the game really starts. For those who are worried: It won't just be the game plot. There is more evil/redemption with some Daedra/Divines mixed in there. _


End file.
